Be Patient because the Lord is coming soon

Third Sunday of Advent Year A

Though many would agree that patience is a virtue, it is often in short supply. We have an expression in Cantonese that best illustrates this lack of patience - “kanchiong” (pardon the self attempt at transliteration). Why is it so difficult for us to be patient, to wait?

Humans, or at least modern humans, are wired for instant self-gratification, to seek pleasure now, and modern life is filled with examples of quick satisfaction, from one-click shopping to instant messaging, to looking for the shortest Masses in town (best below 45 minutes). Impatience, which was once widely viewed as something negative is not seen in a more positive light, a sign of being busy or important, while waiting can be perceived as being lackadaisical. Being enslaved to digital technology does not help. The internet and streaming services provide on-demand content and information, reinforcing the expectation that things should be accessible immediately. Finally, experiencing uncertainty can make people want to control the present moment to make it as pleasant as possible, leading to irritation when there are delays.

Waiting for change and results can be frustrating when we are consumed by this impatient mindset. But the central message of our readings today is clear - transformation and change is certain, our Lord is coming without a doubt, our goal is within reach even if we still cannot see it. St James tells his readers in the second reading: “Be patient, brothers, until the Lord’s coming. Think of a farmer: how patiently he waits for the precious fruit of the ground until it has had the autumn rains and the spring rains! You too have to be patient; do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming will be soon.”

In the first reading, Israel speaks of how an arid desert suddenly blooms into lush green farmland. Though, we wet landers can never imagine this happening, this does occur in certain years when there is ample rainfall. But sometimes, you need to wait for months and even years before you see any substantial rain in these dry lands. The Prophet Isaiah’s description of the transformation of nature is, of course, not meant to be literal. The same could be said when he speaks of what seems to be medically impossible: “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer and the tongues of the dumb sing for joy…”

These images provide the background for John the Baptist’s question to our Lord in the gospel. “Are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for someone else?” Or rather, “Is the desert blooming, or not, or do we have to wait for another year?” It is consoling that the great Baptist himself was impatiently waiting for the One he was preparing the people to receive. And the Lord comes back with a definitive yes: the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. The miracles which our Lord performed were intended to confirm that He is the “One who is to come.” He is the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy that the rains have come in the desert. Those who were thirsty are now experiencing the life that comes from the living waters of God.

What does all of this have to do with Advent? The virtue of Advent is patience. Most people have little patience for Christmas to happen. They are already putting up Christmas decorations, throwing parties and singing carols at the beginning of December, if not even earlier in November. Now, I don’t wish to sound like the Grinch who attempts to steal the Christmas joy from everyone. God knows how much we need joy in our lives these days! Joy, like patience, is in short supply too. But it is critical to recall once again that Advent isn’t first about Christmas (at least not until the 17th of December); it’s first about the Second Coming of the Lord. It is good to heed the words of St James in the second epistle as he brings to mind the image of a farmer waiting for his yield. The fruits of the earth take time. They cannot be rushed. The law of growth is rest. The soil must not be disturbed. Above all we must not disturb it ourselves by our own egoism. We must not turn it over and dig it up by anxieties and scruples. Anyone who grows things can understand the analogy. When you think about it like this, waiting for seeds to sprout—or for fruit to ripen—is very much like the waiting and the enduring patience which is required of Advent.

The patience of Advent is meant to train us far beyond the patience of waiting to open presents until Christmas, although we all know that such patience can feel like quite the trial when you’re at a certain age! We are waiting for the fulfillment of all things in Christ. We are waiting for the end of the world. We are waiting for the end of our own lives. We are waiting for judgment. We are waiting for God to act and no one is in control of God. We are waiting for a solution to the problem that hangs over our heads like the Sword of Damocles. But let us not forget - He sets the pace. He establishes the time and seasons. He determines the path and the final outcome. All we must do, is patiently and humbly wait upon Him.

But, this doesn’t mean that we have nothing to do. Growing in patience is hard work, you don’t just take it lying down. I’m often amused when people tell me that they need more patience because they find it unendurable to put up with vexing individuals in their lives. I will tell them: “God is indeed answering your prayers. How do you even think of growing in patience if you do not have these individuals in your life?” As hard edges sharpen knives, uncomfortable situations and persons can make a person stronger and more patient.

There are so many ways in which we can begin to cultivate and grow in patience this Advent season. We can grow in patience when we have no visible results for our prayers, sacrifices, and efforts. We can practice patience when we experience our many personal failures and see the failures of others. We can mature in patience when we feel helpless in the face of all the evil and injustice spreading in our world. We can practice patience as we see our Church riddled with scandals and threats of heresies. Our patience is strengthened when we endure many trials and temptations and overcome personal struggles. We grow in patience as we love the ones who irritate and annoy us. So don’t worry. Our patient God will provide us many moments to grow in this virtue of patience as well as the graces of being patient like Him. So, “be patient; do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming will be soon.”

The Price for Lasting Peace

Second Sunday of Advent Year A

Recently, New Yorkers elected a man as their new mayor, which many hail as their Saviour whilst others accuse as being a communist. Some see him as a future hope for the city while others view him as one of the four apocalyptic horsemen that would bring about its destruction. What endeared him to most of his supporters was his primary campaign promise to dish out “free stuff.” Free bus. Free housing. Free groceries. Now, who wouldn’t like “free stuff”?

Have you ever longed for a place where everything was “free”? A place where people worked together, shared together and genuinely cared for one another? A place where poverty, conflict, rivalry, violence is absent or abolished entirely? Despite best intentions and best efforts, the lesson we learn from the neo-socialists, communists, democratic governments is that mankind is unable to engineer the perfect society. Why have countless experiments failed or have been unsuccessful? The answer can be found in the very name given to these ventures. It’s the word “utopia.” Utopia, a Greek word, literally means “no place.” The reality is that there never has been a place on earth where human beings created a perfect peaceful community. And often it has been the very people who claim to create an earthly paradise that have caused the most devastating brokenness. The good news is that scripture shows us how peace and perfection will arrive on earth.

In the first reading, the Prophet Isaiah, our principal prophet for this season of Advent, shares with us a prophetic dream of a future society, a perfect paradise. All hatreds and hostilities have disappeared, those who hated and killed their victims are now sitting side by side, the lion and the leopard lie down with the lamb and the gazelle, the child plays with the poisonous snake. Nobody is doing any harm, the poor and the weak are no longer oppressed by injustice, all seems lovey-dovey. It is paradise restored. Sounds like Utopia, right? Problem is that this ‘paradise’, this ‘utopia,’ exists in no place. But will this ever take place? Well, the Prophet Isaiah provides the clue – he points to the shoot that will spring from the stock of Jesse.

The stock or the stump of Jesse actually refers to another failed project, the broken line of the dynasty of David. The dynasty of King David had been cut down like a tree by the Babylonians in 587 B.C. when the city of Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Judah was devastated and the ruling class led into exile. The people were shocked to realise that the dynasty was not really eternal. But had not God assured David: “your house and your kingdom shall endure forever before me; your throne shall stand firm forever” (2 Sam 7:16). Isaiah knew that God must always be true to His word; hence the dynasty in some way will revive. The spirit of the Lord will rest upon the stump and the roots of Jesse, and the people of God will bloom again. New life can emerge from what is perceived as a dead tree. But the solution would not be a human one. It is through God’s direct intervention that the dead tree stump would spring to life again. We need a Saviour, not just a charismatic political leader. Christ would be the answer.

The second reading also presents us with a similarly utopian vision, now of the Church. But the realities that plagued the Church during the time of St Paul’s writings were in fact dystopian. There was building tension between two group of Christians within the community. The smaller group, described as the “weak,” liked very much a traditional form of religion, prayed a lot and mortified themselves, and observed a lot of prescriptions. The other group, named the “strong,” did not pay attention to such “small” things, which they considered trivial, and held that one did not have to follow the old law; the only necessary thing was to be faithful to Christ. The two groups abused each other: the weak “passed judgment” on the strong ones, calling them unfaithful and these, in their turn “had contempt” for the weak ones, classifying them as traditionalists and without understanding. Sounds familiar?

St Paul recommends to all to be charitable, to show love and reciprocal respect. He did not need to reinvent the wheel and come up with a new blueprint for this community. Christ is THE BLUEPRINT! Our Lord, who did not seek to please Himself but placed Himself at the service of others, is the model par excellence for the qualities needed for community living. What He gives to us is “free”, salvation is a free gift because it is not something we can ever earn. But it comes at the greatest cost to Himself – He paid the cost through His own life. Harmony in the community could only be assured by the member’s commitment to Christ. St Paul challenged the “strong” as well as the “weak” to “treat each other in the same friendly way as Christ treated” them. Rather than engage in mutual criticism that would only engender hostility, they should learn “to be tolerant with each other, following the example of Christ Jesus, so that united in mind and voice (they) may give glory to God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Finally, we come to the gospel and discover the key to Peace. It is to be found in the keynote message of the gospel and that of Advent - repentance. In today’s gospel, we hear the story of how St John the Baptist preached this message, “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is close at hand.” What does the word Repentance mean? In Hebrew, the word for conversion (shubh) indicates that one has taken a wrong path, and once he has become aware of his detour, the individual returns to the right path in order to return to God. So too the Greek word, metanoia involves not just a static remorse but a dynamic and determined about-face, a positive commitment to a new way of life. Significantly, conversion is not a purely human decision or endeavour. Rather, conversion is a human response to the prior initiative of God.

Repentance means turning to Christ. Repentance means putting on Christ and becoming Christ. The word “Christian” means “of Christ” or a “little Christ.” It means putting God in the first place in our lives and making sure that everything else finds its rightful places in our lives under God. Repentance means letting go of our own will, in order to follow the things that God wills for us. It means turning away from sin and all rebellion against God, in order to be obedient to God and to follow Him in all that He wants from us. Repentance means owning up to our sin, our human frailties, our fears, our inner hurts and entrusting all these to God’s mercy and compassion. Repentance means knowing our need of God. In turning our lives around, we come to recognise that our self-sufficiency is inadequate and that we need to cooperate with God in our own salvation. Repentance therefore is not a one-time thing. It is a process that goes on for a lifetime. Little by little we orientate ourselves ever more perfectly in God’s love.

So as we continue our journey to Christmas, we need to repent of our comfortableness with sin. This is the only way our society and the Church can be transformed. Various utopian experiments that have sought to improve mankind and create a peaceable environment have failed. Lasting peace would not be found in any peace treaty or socio-political or economic reform. This is because, if God is not part of the equation, Utopia would remain a dream. But God’s effort to bring peace will not fail. It will succeed—through Jesus Christ and the establishment of God’s Kingdom. The Kingdom is both “free” and costly. Free because our Lord offers it to us freely. Costly because He has already paid the price for this gift. So, prepare the Way of the Lord!

There can be no peace without Christ

First Sunday of Advent Year A

One of President Trump’s biggest boasts, and he has good reason to trumpet this (pardon the pun), is that he is the “Peace President,” since he has brokered numerous peace treaties throughout the world within the first year of his presidency. One last trophy that he aspires would be to end the bloody conflict between Ukraine and Russia, a peace deal which has eluded him thus far. Well, we still have until Christmas, and that would be a wondrous Christmas gift for all stakeholders. Global peace is not just a universal aspiration in modern times but something desired throughout mankind’s turbulent history. The prophet Isaiah in the first reading sums this up in his vision: “Nation will not lift sword against nation, there will be no more training for war.”

Even as breaches against ceasefire treaties take place in various hotspots, threatening to throw warring parties back into war, the question remains: how long would this last? How can we ever get from a bloodthirsty crowd to become peaceniks? The readings on this First Sunday of Advent provide us with the answer. There can be no peace, if such peace does not exist within our hearts. And for that peace to reign in our hearts, God must rule it. And the reason why lasting peace eludes us is that we haven’t yet allowed God to truly rule our hearts.

Yes, lasting peace cannot be merely achieved through human brokered peace treaties. Threats of nuclear annihilation and oppressive trade sanctions may serve as a temporary deterrent, but violence cannot be defeated by more violence or threats of it. There may be superficial and temporary ceasefire but hatred festers unseen within the heart. Martin Luther King Jr. prophetically said: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” This profound sentiment embraces the spirit of Advent and the hope that is rooted in Christ— He is the Light that has penetrated our darkness in order to dispel it, the Prince of Peace who has come to “wield authority over the nations and adjudicate between the many peoples; these will hammer their swords into ploughshares, their spears into sickles.”

In the first reading, the Prophet Isaiah provides us with an astounding spoiler alert of how things would end, how darkness would be conquered by the light and how hatred would be defeated by love. You would imagine that Isaiah or God who revealed this to him would have kept this surprise to the very end, but God does not waste time in playing games with us nor wishes to keep us in suspense. The glorious ending has already been written. The peoples of Isaiah’s days see a besieged city on the brink of destruction sitting on a modest hill but God wishes to present them with an entirely new POV. The hill on which Jerusalem lies is not a particularly high one, but when Christ comes it will be a towering mountain, dominating the whole world. All nations will realise its importance and come to Jerusalem not to conquer it or to destroy it but to draw salvation from it, the source of all salvation. God will teach the people His ways, wield authority over nations, and adjudicate among the peoples. When people listen to the voice of God and abide by His will, all striving and conflict will end.

St Paul in the second reading makes a similar call when he tells us to “wake up” because “our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted. The night is almost over, it will be daylight soon – let us give up all the things we prefer to do under cover of the dark; let us arm ourselves and appear in the light. Let us live decently as people do in the daytime: no drunken orgies, no promiscuity or licentiousness, and no wrangling or jealousy. Let your armour be the Lord Jesus Christ.” St Paul’s diagnosis of the malaise of his time is equally applicable today. People continue to deliberately choose to live in sin and darkness rather than to walk in the light of Christ. That is why every Advent becomes an urgent call to “wake up” from this stupor, to repent of our sins but also to prophetically and challenge the world to do the same.

Our Lord in our Gospel today speaks to His disciples and us: “So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming,” and then adds at the very end: “Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” This season of preparation for the Birth of Christ should cause us to pause to have perspective on our relationship with the Lord and make space in our hearts and lives to bring His light where there may be shadows of sin and selfishness. God’s love wants to break through the darkness so that we may be redeemed and be made new in His promises—this is our great hope. Let us be clear - only He alone can bring peace to your troubled hearts, your broken homes, and this conflicted world of ours.

In the year following the horrendous attack on the World Trade Centre in New York on September 11, Pope St John Paul II wrote these prophetic words in his message for World Day of Prayer for Peace: “No peace without justice, no justice without forgiveness: I shall not tire of repeating this warning to those who, for one reason or another, nourish feelings of hatred, a desire for revenge or the will to destroy. But only Christ can bring perfect justice and offer perfect forgiveness, for this reason, my dear brothers and sisters, there can be no peace without Christ.”

May we take in, the grace of this season—quieting ourselves so that we may watch and listen for the Lord who is already present in our midst. Make Him the centre of your lives. Let Him rule your hearts. Let His light penetrate your homes and workplace. He is coming, let us be awake, vigilant, and ready to welcome Him. Indeed, let us heed the words of the Psalmist: “Let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord” and never forget that “there can be no peace without Christ.”

Long live Christ the King

Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe Year C

Twice this year, a loosed coalition of anti-Trump groups funded by globalist billionaires and endorsed by the opposition Democratic Party organised nationwide rallies in many cities across the United States under the common banner of “No Kings.” They were claiming that the man in the White House, which many refused to acknowledge as their president, who won the 2024 presidential election which many of them denied, is a pretentious tyrannical dictator, in other words, an unelected king! But there is irony in their chants and claims.

It’s wild how the same people chanting “No Kings” are the first to bow to every new trend, influencer, or ideology that tells them what to think, what to post, and what to believe. The truth is everyone serves something. The only question is who sits on the throne of your heart.

You can reject authority all you want, but it doesn’t change reality. There is a King. He doesn’t need your vote, your approval, or your permission. His name is Jesus. And unlike the kings of this world, here is a king whose throne is the cross, whose crown is made of thorns, whose soldiers do not fight for Him but mock Him, whose courtiers abandon Him, deny Him and even betray Him. The scene which we just heard in the gospel portrays this stark contrast between this King, whom we today acclaim as the King of Kings and the Lord of the Universe, and all the monarchs that have ever ruled in human history.

The “No Kings” crowd says they’re free, but their chains are just invisible. They worship self, culture, and chaos. Meanwhile, the King they reject is the only one who actually died to set them free. You can shout “No Kings” all day long, but one day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Many have stood up for their faith in this King and have died martyrs. They would rather die as faithful subjects of this Divine King than to bend their knee to some earthly ruler who demands absolute obedience to the point of suppressing faith in any religion or God.

One of these men is a saintly and faithful bishop. This year marks the 25th anniversary of Cardinal Kung's death. Cardinal Ignatius Pin-Mei Kung was the Bishop of the Catholic Diocese of Shanghai and the unofficial leader of the Underground Catholic Church in China for decades. He was consecrated bishop just after the Chinese Communist Party had taken over China. Certainly, not the best of time for the faith. In defiance of the CCP, Bishop Kung personally supervised members of the Legion of Mary to train catechists to pass on the faith when all the priests were gone.

In 1952, Bishop Kung declared that year to be a Marian Year in Shanghai, during which there was to be uninterrupted round-the-clock recitation of the rosary in front of a statue of Our Lady of Fatima which toured all the parishes of Shanghai. The holy statue finally arrived at Christ the King Church where a major arrest of the priests had just taken place only a month before. Bishop Kung led the Rosary there while hundreds of armed police looked on. At the end of the Rosary Bishop Kung prayed: "Holy Mother, we do not ask you for a miracle. We do not beg you to stop the persecutions. But we beg you to support us who are very weak."

Between 1951 and 1955 all foreign priests and religious sisters were deported from China, sometimes after time in prison. Chinese bishops, priests, sisters and legionaries were typically arrested, subject to public humiliation, brainwashing sessions, torture, and sent to labour camps for long periods (often more than 20 years) or simply executed. Not all Catholics remained faithful.

Bishop Kung was arrested along with more than 200 priests and other Catholics on 8 September, 1955, the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He was subjected to a mob "struggle session" (an orchestrated denunciation by a baying crowd which sometimes becomes violent) in the old Dog Racing Stadium in Shanghai. Thousands were ordered to attend and to hear the Bishop's public confession of his “crimes". With his hands tied behind his back, wearing a Chinese pajama suit and a conical dunce cap (the parody of a mitre), the 5-foot tall Bishop was pushed forward to the microphone to confess. To the shock of the security police, they heard a righteous loud cry of "Long live Christ the King, long live the Pope" from the Bishop. The crowd responded immediately, "Long live Christ the King, long live Bishop Kung". For his defiant faith, Bishop Kung spent a total of thirty years in prison with long periods in isolation holding firmly to that very belief that Christ is King.

Though we continue to face opposition, persecution and hostility, wishing to silence our voices and destroy our faith, with Bishop Kung we persist in praying to Christ the King and His Blessed Mother: “we do not ask you for a miracle. We do not beg you to stop the persecutions. But we beg you to support us who are very weak."

So, let the crowds chant “No kings.” Let their slogans rise like smoke from a fire they cannot control. Let their fists shake at a heaven they pretend not to believe in. Kings and politicians may shake and tremble at their baying. But there is a throne that does not tremble. A crown that never dulls. A King who does not campaign for allegiance, nor bend to the will of the blood-thirsty mob. His robe carries the marks of His own blood. His hands bear wounds earned for traitors. His eyes see through the shouting into the ache beneath it. He is Jesus Christ. Crucified. Risen! Reigning! Victorious!

We do not serve an idea. We serve a King. A living King. A ruling King. A returning King. Every crown will fall. Every kingdom will fade. Every chant will break against the unshakable throne of Jesus Christ. And in the end, there will not be silence. There will be song. While the chants of the haters fill the streets, another sound rises from the rooms of our homes and the pews of our churches. Knees touch the floor. Heads bow low. Words rise like incense into the night, uttering with conviction: “My King. My Lord and my God!"

He is Coming

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

When I had just arrived in a former parish, I faced my first hurdle - communicating with the sacristan who was a foreign national. He had a strange way of speaking by conflating time - past, present and future - in a single continuous tense, a perpetual “now.” One day, he called me on my off day and told me that a visiting priest was “coming already.” I then asked him for specifics. He kept repeating “coming already.” To my chagrin, I wasn’t able to decipher his message. I eventually called my assistant to speak to him and hopefully he would have some better luck. He fared better and told me that the visiting priest “had already come” in the morning and left since he didn’t get a chance to meet me. This memory has always stayed with me when I recall how the end time prophecies of our Lord appear to have the same strange way of being perceived - past, present and future - all flow into a single continuous “now.”

Though the future destruction of the Temple and the city of Jerusalem would have been prophesied by our Lord during His lifetime, the gospel of St Luke was most likely written after this cataclysmic event. Both the destruction of the Temple and persecution of Christians were regarded as the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies about “the Day of the Lord,” which we heard in the first reading. But when these events happened, they were also confirmation of the prophecy of the Lord. For those living through these times, these events were confirmation that they were living in the end times, the last days. The level of panic and fear would have been off the scale, with many feeling hapless and lost in despair. This is the reason why the eschatological message of scriptures is meant to provide courage and consolation and not meant to instil more fear or add to the anxiety of the listener.

If you were to take a closer look, the prophecy of our Lord can be divided into three parts. Though these three parts appear seamless and all seem to point to a future event, the first-generation reader of the gospel would have known that these different parts refer to different stages of the spectrum of time and history - past, present and future. With regards to the destruction of the city, this is a past event that has already happened which confirms the veracity of the words of our Lord. But when the Lord begins to list down a sample list of cataclysmic events which are both man-made and the result of natural disasters, He seems to be moving to an event or a series of events in the unknown future. Finally, this passage speaks to the reader in his current condition - he is a subject of persecution, alienation and humiliation, which the early Christian community were experiencing in the first Christian century and throughout the history of the Church.

Though the timeline seems to be blurred and any reader could easily apply the prophecy to his current situation and time (especially with regards to persecution and disasters, both natural and man-made), what the passage wishes to emphasise here is that we should not be distracted by these “signs.” This seems to be the issue with the disciples of the Lord as well as Christians of every generation - we get so caught up with the pyrotechnics, with the “signs,” and fail to see that all these things seek to highlight the only thing which matters - or to be more accurate, the only person that matters, Our Lord Jesus Christ. All “signs” point to Him, who should be our sole focus.

The “end times” may sound like an epoch in time or an event in history but it is really about a person - our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of History, the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, and all times and seasons belong to Him. So, are we in the end times? The answer is simple and complex. Yes. We are living in the “end times” but it began over two thousand years ago with the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are in the end times and this period of salvation history will continue until Christ’s triumphant return in glory at His Second Coming. Every generation has signs of suffering, apostasy, and renewal. But these are not signs that the end is near but a call to repentance and to grow in holiness and fidelity to our Lord. In the face of disaster, hardship and persecution, we Christians need only to remember our Lord’s words at the end of today’s passage: “Your endurance will win you your lives.”

So, there is no need for us to speculate when our Lord will return, because no one knows the day or the hour in which Christ will return in glory. But we can be certain that He will return in glory to judge the living and the dead and that His return will herald the end and final complete defeat of all His enemies - suffering, sin, death, and the power of evil. We cannot live in denial of evil. Evil is real but so is the power of good, the power of God. In fact, the good is more real because evil is always destructive, always negative, always corrupting. Whereas the good creates, builds, grows, nurtures, comforts, enhances, heals. The good news of Jesus Christ is that evil does not triumph, cannot triumph, and so we do not have to fear. We can look in the face of evil—as so many Christian martyrs have done and do even today—and persevere in loving the good. This is a promise of hope, not a threat of destruction.

Christ will return in glory at the end of time to judge the living and the dead. There will be a resurrection of the body, and God’s justice and mercy will be fully revealed. This is the true meaning of the end of the world—not fear of cosmic disaster but confident hope in the ultimate triumph of our Lord Jesus Christ. Rather than becoming preoccupied with signs and speculations, Catholics are called to live in a state of grace, anchored in the sacraments, guided by Sacred Scripture, and sustained by the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. We do not need to fear the end. We belong to a Church that already knows how the story ends: Christ is victorious as He was “in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.”

The Church is your Mother

Solemnity of the Dedication of St John Lateran

Why would the Church choose to celebrate the day a church (a major basilica no less) is dedicated to the worship of God and designate it as a feast? In fact, if this feast falls on a Sunday, it will take the place of the Sunday liturgy.

This is no ordinary building. This is the cathedral of the diocese of Rome, the first Christian church dedicated after the end of the persecution of Christians, the only church described as “the mother and head of all the churches of the City of Rome) and of the world.” In a way, this Church does not only represent the Diocese of Rome but the entire universal Catholic Church. It is not only the mother of all churches but a reminder that the Catholic Church is our mother as St Cyprian beautifully puts it, “you cannot have God as your father if you do not have the Church as your mother.”

The word “basilica” in its application to Christian churches originated here. When Constantine ended the persecution of Christians with the Edict of Milan, Christians were permitted to worship publicly for the first time. Various options from the pagan world were given as possible models for the first church. The problem, however, was that most pagan temples were small, not intended for large public gatherings and communal worship. People generally did not participate in worship which was considered to be the exclusive domain of the priestly class.

So you can imagine Constantine’s surprise when he asked Pope Silvester, “how big of a temple do you want” and Pope Silvester replied, “How big can you build it?” The idea that people would actually participate in worship was revolutionary. St. John Lateran was the first place built for public Christian worship in the City of Rome and as such it set the standard for all others. It taught them, and it teaches us, that the Mass is never something we watch like spectators but always something in which we participate.

This is why our Lord drove the money changers out of the temple. The money changers were thrown out not because they had reduced worship to a financial enterprise, but they represented a system where the common people were excluded from the main worship and they acted as a go-between for the priestly caste and the people. Our Lord came to establish a new Temple out of His own body, a temple in which the presence of God dwells and those assembled are members of His body raised up to be a priestly nation and royal priesthood.

My favourite part of the basilica is the Baptistry, which is reputed to be the oldest part of the basilica which has seen centuries of renovations and reconstruction. It is a squat octagonal building with its interior walls beautifully decorated with murals depicting the story of Constantine coming to the faith. The eight sides represent the Eighth Day, Sunday, the Day of our Lord’s resurrection, and thus an apt symbol of the rebirth Christians experience in the waters of baptism. It is said that this building was not built from raw fresh materials but parts of other imperial monuments. They could have used new construction material but instead they used existing material from much older buildings.

It is done so for a purpose, to teach a truth of faith. As grace builds upon nature, the sacred is taken from the profane and profoundly incorporated into the body of Christ. The ancient monuments of Old pagan Rome which tried to destroy Christianity are now subverted for the glory of God and for His Church. Sin is subverted for the greater good. That is the power of baptism – It changes all people and makes them new in Christ. The Church always has been a community of sinners seeking God’s grace. The Baptistery of St. John Lateran reminds us that no sin is greater than God’s mercy, and that the waters of Baptism and the grace of Reconciliation continue to take what is profane and make it sacred.

St. John Lateran teaches us that the Church is where we trust and celebrate God’s all-powerful, unbounded, transforming mercy. Christianity is no longer only a private, personal experience of faith or a mere spectator of human history and politics. It is now a public witness that courageously forms society and transforms cultures and no longer hides in fear of persecution or rejection and the Church has a necessary voice in world affairs. Today, we do not just celebrate the dedication of a building – we celebrate the mission of the Church which continues to teach, sanctify and provide guidance in the name of her Lord and Saviour.

Our Duty to Pray for the Dead

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed

The first reading is taken from a book of the Old Testament that is missing from the Protestant Bible. Its omission is understandable as it shows how the people of the Old Testament prayed for the deceased, a practice which is considered futile and superstitious and thus rejected by the Protestants.

The two books of Maccabees speak of a time when the Jewish homeland was ruled by the Greeks who sought every means to destroy both the local culture and suppress the people’s religion. The desecration of the holy Temple of God was the last straw when the Greeks sought to turn it into a temple rededicated to their chief pagan deity, Zeus. The Jewish nationalists rose in revolt. It was not merely a nationalistic insurrection but first and foremost, a religious war. The Jewish rebels would invoke God’s assistance to defend them and to destroy their enemies. But here in chapter 12 of the second book of Maccabees, we see the Jews offering up a different form of prayer - this time not for blood of their enemies but for reconciliation of the dead.

Although Judas won this battle, many of his soldiers were killed. When their companions went to bury them, they found that each dead soldier was wearing pagan amulets under his tunic. In the minds of the Jews, it was clear why their compatriots died despite God’s protection. But instead of abandoning their souls to perdition, Judas took a collection up among his soldiers and sent an offering to Jerusalem so that sacrifices and prayers might be offered up for his men who had sinned and fallen. All is not lost even in death and when one dies a sinner. It is here that we read an important verse for us on this day, “For if (Judas) had not expected the fallen to rise again it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray for the dead, whereas if he had in view the splendid recompense reserved for those who make a pious end, the thought was holy and devout. This was why he had this atonement sacrifice offered for the dead, so that they might be released from their sin.”

Within this most positive assessment of Judas’ deed of offering prayers and sacrifices for the dead, we have the powerful justification for two important aspects of our Catholic faith - the dogma concerning purgatory and the efficacy of praying for the dead - both, unfortunately, seem to have grown out of fashion due to a subtle transformation of the Requiem or funeral Mass into a mere memorial service where the deceased are eulogised.

In our efforts to eulogise the dead, we have forgotten that funerals are meant for sinners and not perfected saints. We celebrate feast days for saints. But the truth is that we are all imperfect and most of us die imperfect, in spite of our efforts to be better. This is the reason for believing in Purgatory. Purgatory is not a midway point between heaven and hell. Purgatory is intended for those destined for heaven. Purgatory is where souls are prepared for heaven, it is where the work of God which had begun in their lives would be completed. It is the “processing centre” where exiles wandering lost in the valley of sin and death are prepared for their final homecoming to their eternal home in heaven.

Most people believe that heaven is guaranteed, it is a done deal once they’re baptised and if they live relatively good lives. For this reason, many choose to not go for confession, seeing no need for it. But we need healing from the results of our sins, even if these sins are forgiven in confession. The results of sin do not just go away because the sin is forgiven. For example, a man might leave his wife and family and move in with another woman. His wife might be near a nervous breakdown. His children in turmoil. If ten years later, he seeks forgiveness for his actions, he can be forgiven not just by God but also by his wife. But the results of his sins remain. The children grew up devastated. Their father was not there when they needed him. His wife is still suffering the traumatic results of the end of their marriage. The sin is forgiven, but the effects of the sin remains. Reparation is required, and we are not talking about the monetary kind.

During our lives we approach the Lord seeking the healing for the results of our sins. That is why the Church promotes the gaining of indulgences which supplements the necessary practice of frequent confession. Indulgences deal with the effects of sin, the temporal punishment due to us, while confession absolves us of the guilt and the eternal punishment due to sin. When our lives on earth have ended, we depend on the prayers of those still living here to continue to ask God to heal the results of sin in our lives. And so, we do a disservice to our dead by canonising them prematurely, by deciding that no matter what their lives may have been like, they must be in heaven right now. It is a disservice because the faithful departed need our prayers. They need us to offer the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross for them–to have Masses said for them. They need us to pray the rosary asking Mary to speak to her Son for our loved ones. They need us to visit their graves, which are visible reminders of our duty to pray for them and that we continue to remain united to them in the Communion of Saints.

On this day when we commemorate all the faithful departed whom we had lost over the years, we do so not with broken hearts nor in hopeless despair. We live as a people of hope because we believe that humanity’s exile to this sin-scarred planet of crime, cruelty, injustice, and death will one day come to an end. Just as how our Lord commanded the dead son of the widow to rise up, it is our hope and prayer, that our Lord will command all the faithful departed who have died in His peace, to rise and have a share in His glory won for us on the cross.

The Books of Maccabees tell us that it is a good thing to pray for the dead. But it is more than just a recommended “good thing,” it is our duty! Our duty is to continue to pray for the dead, for the souls in Purgatory, and we do this, because this is what the Holy Spirit has taught us to do. It is a gift of God, to allow us to share in His work in bringing His people to perfection. God wills that we should share in this work through our prayers. And by praying for them, we are attesting to the truth, “life is changed, not ended” at death.

And so we pray this ancient prayer which our ancestors prayed, and we hope that our descendants would continue to do so for us:

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

Turning One's Gaze toward God

Solemnity of All Saints

One of my favourite songs is often described as the epitome of British dark humour. Some of you may know it: “Always look on the bright side of life.” Seems like a good and encouraging piece of advice until you realised that it was sung by a person or persons dying by crucifixion (not Jesus but the movie’s eponymous protagonist, Brian, Jesus’ neighbour) and it comes in the closing scene of the Monty Python movie, with other crucifixion victims joining in the chorus as the credits roll. To declare that one should always look on the bright side of life even as one suffers the excruciatingly slow and painful execution of crucifixion is the height of irony. Is this what our Lord is suggesting in His teaching on the beatitudes? Should we be “happy” or pretend to be “happy” even when everything is going south? Is this the reason why we Christians declare that the Friday where our Lord was betrayed, tortured, humiliated and died, a “Good” Friday instead of a “bad” one?

Perhaps, there is always at least two ways of looking at a bad situation. An old ditty best sums this up: “Two men looked out from prison bars, one saw the mud, the other saw stars." This little ditty highlights that individuals in the same situation can have vastly different perspectives; one sees only the negative, while the other finds hope or the positive, demonstrating how perspective shapes one's experience and can lead to different choices.

Likewise, there are also two different ways of viewing the scenarios described by the Beatitudes. One may see them as misfortunes and even curses from God - poverty, weakness, hunger, grief, loss, persecution - who wouldn’t? But then our Lord invites us to view them as blessings and in fact a source of Christian joy. Which view seems more realistic? If we didn’t know Jesus any better, we would have chosen the former. When faced with difficulties, trials and tribulations, our first reaction would be a negative one, rather than a positive one - we would see mud, rather than stars. But the Beatitudes seek to challenge this world view.

So, how do we make the shift from seeing only mud to seeing stars, even in the most difficult and painful situations of life? The recently canonised Saint Carlo Acutis gives us the answer: “Sadness is turning one’s gaze inward; happiness is turning one’s gaze toward God. Conversion is nothing other than shifting one’s gaze from below to above. A simple movement of the eyes is enough.” The wise words of this young man shows us that the joy described by our Lord in the Beatitudes are not naive or false optimism; instead, they represent a deeper, authentic joy found not in worldly success but in humility, mercy, and aligning one's life with God's will. The Beatitudes overturn worldly standards of happiness, which often equate it with wealth, power, and success. True joy comes from recognising one's spiritual need and emptying the self to make room for God, rather than filling oneself with material possessions or self-sufficiency.

Our modern society is suffering from a pandemic of narcissism, of self-absorption, where we believe that everything revolves around us as the centre of the universe. So, every difficulty or challenge, every hurdle or obstacle we encounter in life, becomes another opportunity to moan our misfortune and decry our victimhood. The situations in the Beatitudes will definitely look like “mud”, like curses, if we are merely focusing on ourselves. Saint Acutis was correct to diagnose the cause of “sadness,” it’s “turning one’s gaze inward.”

Our Lord provides the antidote to this pandemic of narcissism through His Beatitudes. A saint is one who turns his gaze to God or as Carlo Acutis puts it, the secret to happiness is “shifting one’s gaze from below to above.” The saint is not an individual who is insulated from what the world sees as unhappy situations but is one who can shift his or her gaze from his present turmoil and sufferings to the joy of eternal life which God has promised to those who remain faithful and on course in following His Son.

In the first reading, we are given a vision of the host of saints arrayed in heaven. They are not those spared of persecution but rather those who have gone through it. In the gospel, our Lord is speaking to people who for the most part live in poverty, for whom hunger, starvation and death are daily realities. He looks at them and tells them that if they follow the way of the kingdom, they will be blessed. They will be assured of true happiness. If we love God and the things of God as we ought, even in this life, we will consider the suffering we experience in this life as insignificant in comparison to the joys for which we hope. And unless we learn to love God above all things, and all things for God’s sake, we shall never find true happiness. This is the message of the Beatitudes.

So, our Lord invites us who are called to be saints to always reach for the stars instead of grovelling in the mud of despair. To always look on the brighter side of life is not to ignore the issues and difficulties we have to face or attempt to pull the wool over our eyes and pretend these problems do not exist. But we need to remember that concentrating on the problem can make it appear larger and more consuming. Focusing on problems can lead to depression, despair and exhaustion. If problems are the sole focus, God can diminish in your vision, leading to a forgetfulness of His promises and power. Instead, we are called like all the saints to always shift our gaze from below to above, to focus on the Lord even if we are in the midst of pain and distress because as the Psalmist assures us, we “shall receive blessings from the Lord and reward from the God who saves him. Such are the men who seek him, seek the face of the God of Jacob.”

At the end of his homily on the occasion of the canonisation of two amazing men, young saints of our time, Pope Leo XIV said that the lives of “Saints Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis are an invitation to all of us, especially young people, not to waste our lives, but to direct them upward and make them a masterpiece. They encourage us with their words: "Not I, but God," said Carlo. And Pier Giorgio: "If you have God at the centre of all your actions, then you will reach the end." This is the simple but sure formula of their holiness. And it is also the testimony we are called to imitate to enjoy life to the fullest and go to meet the Lord at the feast in heaven.”

The impartial God has favourites

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Most people look forward to Christmas or their birthdays, as they would expect a pleasant surprise in the form of a present. I knew what to expect each year - another book, the next volume of “Tell me why?” or some other informative work of non-fiction. It wouldn’t have been so painful except I enviously saw my brother getting the latest toys and games. I’ve since concluded that life isn’t fair and sometimes it does feel that parents have their favourites.

As far as underlings are concerned, whether it be an employee, a subordinate, a subject, a student or a child, the greatest sin of a superior is favouritism and partiality. Partiality means to show preference for one over another. For most people, partiality is equated with injustice. But here’s the irony, and I would dare say, the hypocrisy of the matter. Though we would expect impartiality of our superiors, we would also expect that they side with us, which means that they should be partial to us.

If there is anyone who suffers this tension more than any living person, it is God. God, of all persons, is expected to be perfectly impartial and yet He is often accused of not taking our side. In other words, we expect both impartiality and partiality of God. We hope and pray that He favours us while not siding with our enemies and rivals. So, is God impartial or partial? Does He have favourites or does He not have favourites? Our simple minds would not be able to reconcile this contradiction and yet we can practically live with both.

God may appear to be partial while He is really levelling the playing field. When He sides with the poor, the oppressed and even with sinners, He is actually correcting the injustice which they are suffering at the hands of others or due to sin. The values of the Kingdom of God may appear to be upside down when compared to our earthly experience, but it is actually the right side up of how things should be. God loves this beautiful but broken creation of His, and He is going to heal it and remake it according to His original plan. This is what we are witnessing in today’s readings.

In the first reading, after hearing this declaration that God is impartial, that He “is a judge who is no respecter of personages”, it becomes clear that God is partial to the voiceless poor man who has no wealth to buy influence or justice. In fact, we are told that God “listens to the plea of the injured party …., does not ignore the orphan’s supplication, nor the widow’s as she pours out her story.” He has a special ear for the “man who with his whole heart” and “the humble man’s prayer.” The Psalmist goes further by declaring that “the Lord is close to the broken-hearted; those whose spirit is crushed he will save.” The reason for this is not because God is partial and has favourites. It is because He wishes to correct the injustice that has sought to silence the voice of the weak, the oppressed and the poor and denied them justice.

In the gospel, our Lord tells the familiar parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector and contrasts the type of prayer and outcome of both, with God seeming to favour the latter instead of the former. In our simple sense of justice, shouldn’t sinners be punished and the righteous be rewarded? The interesting point to note here is that God’s partiality seems to depart from the Old Testament model of God bending to the cries of the poor, the weak or even the righteous and instead chooses to lean in the direction of a sinner. There is no indication that this tax collector was poor. In fact, he would have accumulated great wealth, some at the expense of others through exploitation and unjust means, and yet God justifies him at the end of the story. How do we make sense of this?

This is where we need to relook at what it means to be poor. Poverty is not confined to material poverty. In fact, our Lord in the Beatitudes (Matthew’s version), speaks of spiritual poverty which goes beyond a lack of money or possessions. Few of us nowadays would be so crass as to show outwardly any disdain for a poor man because he is poor, but we all have our poor: poor in knowledge, poor in skill, poor in good looks, poor in taste, poor in social skills, poor in reputation, spiritually and morally poor. The Lutheran martyr and theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer argues that the greatest evil is stupidity, a poverty of intellectual depth. Suffering such people is more vexing than having to suffer the materially poor.

So, although this tax collector may be considered richer than the Pharisee, he possesses a spiritual poverty that turns the heart of God towards him. Spiritual poverty is a deep awareness that one is spiritually destitute and powerless without God's grace, wisdom, and strength. The tax collector knows that he is a sinner and acknowledges it, more than we can say about the Pharisee. It is humility that finds favour with God. “God opposes the proud but shows favour to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5). The beauty that radiates when true humility is demonstrated carries a supernatural power that can turn tides, turn hearts, and attract favour with God and man that simply cannot be achieved by natural means. The Blessed Virgin Mary found favour with God as announced by the Angel because she had humbly submitted to His will.

The Pharisee, by contrast, arrogantly boasts of his merits and achievements before God. His perception of his spiritual wealth is delusional. He too is a sinner, “for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23), but he refuses to admit it. He so believes in his own righteousness and self-sufficiency that he sees no need for God.

It is widely acceptable to claim that God sides with the poor, that He has a preferential option for the poor, but it is hard to wrap our head around the claim that He favours the sinner, for wouldn’t that mean that He favours sin too? Remember that when God appears to show partiality, it is so that He wishes to correct the injustice and wrongdoing caused by impartiality and sin. And this is the same with how He treats sinners. He draws near to them in order that they may turn away from their sins in genuine repentance in order to turn towards Him in humble submission. He is the divine physician who has come to heal the spiritually sick and who are in need of forgiveness. God stands by the sinner not to defend his offences, some of which is morally indefensible, but to defend him against the destruction caused by these evil deeds. The Lord stands by us not to confirm and support us in our sinfulness but to save us from it!

Back to the story of my annual birthday and Christmas presents. One day, I had an opportunity to exchange notes with my brother on growing up experiences and pangs and I shared how I often felt cheated at the presents I got while he seemed to get the better deal. He then told me that our parents most likely saw the potential in me because I was the “clever one”, thus hoping that I would get a head start with the books which will develop into a love for knowledge. It dawned on me that this is how God works too. He doesn’t give us what we want or what we deserve. He gives us what we “need,” and that’s always the best gift. God is impartial but He also loves each of us dearly and uniquely, so, don’t compare your lot with others but rather be grateful for what you’ve received. I can assure you that this is always the best!

Spiritual Warfare

Twenty Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

The recent assassination of a Christian apologist, political activist and commentator in the United States has exposed how a nation can be divided along deep irreconcilable ideological lines. In the aftermath of the assassination, calls by one side for unity, to tone down the rhetoric, to de-escalate the conflict may actually be insincere and quite hypocritical, for how can one side be asked to disarm while the other side continues to aim their guns at a target on your back. It would literally be suicide. There can be no real peace without authentic conversion on both sides and there can be no conversion if one does not accept the blame.

What has this to do with the readings for today which speak more about prayer then it does about conflict resolution? Most people do not see a connexion but prayer is the foundation of real peace as well as the most potent weapon in spiritual warfare, and believe me, we are at war. The conflict we are witnessing is merely a shadow of the spiritual war that is raging beneath the surface. That is why St Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, tells us, “Put on the full armour of God so as to be able to resist the devil's tactics. For it is not against human enemies that we have to struggle, but against the principalities and the ruling forces who are masters of the darkness in this world, the spirits of evil in the heavens.” (Eph 6:11-13).

The prevalence and unrelenting force of evil is an important reminder that we Christians should be constantly equipped and prepared for spiritual warfare. Yes, we are called to be peacemakers, not peacekeepers. The former understands that peace can only be achieved by defeating evil and upholding the truth and what is good. Peacekeepers only wish to maintain a semblance of calm by all means necessary, even compromising with evil. Do not be so naive to think that we are in a time of peace, do not be so simplistic as to think that we can simply hold up a white flag and parlay with the enemy. There can be no negotiation or compromise with evil. There can be no unity with those who see no need to disavow evil, but in fact continue to promote it. Evil can only be fought and defeated. You can’t make evil your friend. That would be surrendering to evil, which means acquiescing to evil’s ultimate victory. Any harmony that arises from accommodating evil is not true harmony but subjugation to it. So, what must Christians do in the face of evil? We must fight and our most vital weapon is prayer.

In the first reading, we see how prayer sustained the fight between the Israelites and the Amalekites. In ancient times, conflict of nations was viewed as the conflict of their divinities, and the stronger divinities won. As much as war is a great evil, the Israelites were forced to take up arms to defend themselves and their faith in God. As long as Moses held up the staff in his hand, the Israelites had the advantage. But whenever he dropped his hand, the Amalekites gained the advantage. Note the gesture of Moses - raised hands, the Orans or prayer posture which the priest observed during Mass when he prays on behalf of his people. But those outstretched hands also remind us of our Lord Jesus Christ when He was pinned to the cross. His death would be the final victory God would use to defeat sin and Satan. He raises his hands in surrender to God’s Providence and not as an act of surrender to his enemies. Ultimately, the battle was won not through military strategy but through fidelity and prayer.

The gospel provides us with another lesson of prayer but our Lord frames it in the form of a parable. If the analogy in the first reading seems clearer in terms of spiritual warfare, the parable which our Lord tells seems to place the issue of prayer squarely with God. What if God doesn’t seem to be hearing our petitions or is slow in acting? It sometimes feels that the greater warfare is with Him rather than with evil itself. It does sometimes seem as if we are fighting God.

It is interesting that our Lord frames His lesson on prayer by using the example of an unjust judge, who seems to only dispense justice when he is pestered and pushed to a corner. It is certainly not a very charitable image of God. But it is not the intention of our Lord to compare the unjust judge to God as an equivalent. Rather, the example is meant to show the vast contrast between a self-serving figure and the All-Merciful, Ever-Compassionate and Just God. If such an unscrupulous man could dispense justice to his petitioners when pressed to do so, should we even doubt that we will have a quick answer from the God who always has our back?

Our Lord then turns the table on us. It is not God who is on trial but us. We are the accused, not God. We can now see why our Lord uses the image of a judge in His parable. Unlike this corrupt judicial officer, God is the Judge of both the living and the dead, and His judgment is always fair and just. Our Lord sets out the charge against us with this question, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?” Prayer is no longer a test of God’s efficacy but rather of our fidelity. Our Lord promises us this: “I promise you, (God) will see justice done to them, and done speedily.” We should never doubt this. Our fidelity will be tested by our perseverance in prayer even when it is difficult to do so.

But prayer is not the only weapon we can avail of in spiritual warfare. We have the Word of God. St Paul in his second letter to Timothy which we heard in the second reading tells us that “all scripture is inspired by God and can profitably be used for teaching, for refuting error, for guiding people’s lives and teaching them to be holy.” And so he exhorts us: “Before God and before Christ Jesus who is to be judge of the living and the dead, I put this duty to you, in the name of his Appearing and of his kingdom: proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it. Refute falsehood, correct error, call to obedience – but do all with patience and with the intention of teaching.”

Most of us do not like conflict. In fact, many of us choose to avoid it, preferring harmony over open disagreements. “Choose your battles” is generally good advice. But even though we may not go out of the way to look for a fight, living our Catholic faith in today’s world could be summarised in a single word, “embattled.” The fight comes to us whether we like it or not, which means that we must be ready and be prepared for a fight. Perhaps more importantly, we also tend to forget that the battle God calls every one of us to engage in is a spiritual one, fought on the open fields of our hearts. There is a spiritual battle at war within each one of us. Every person is at war against the evil one for their soul, no one is exempt in this battle of human life.

Because prayer is what transforms and guides us, it is the only battle worth fighting, and the only one we must — by God’s grace and our effort — persevere and win. And should our hands grow weary like Moses, though we do not have companions like Aaron and Hur to help us hold them upright, we know that God Himself will give us the Holy Spirit, the sacraments and necessary graces to persevere. For it has been promised that “those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).

Faith, Gratitude and Salvation

Twenty Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

From a young age I recalled being taught and being constantly reminded by my parents and teachers that I should preface every request with a “please” and conclude every request answered with a “thank you.” That’s basic etiquette for you. And so many of our generation are alarmed when we witness younger children these days forgetting these most basic rules. They take without saying “please” and leave without saying “thank you.” This would have earned us the sternest side eye from our parents and a good spanking or caning when we are in the privacy of our homes. While you may think that saying please and thank you is a trivial matter, a mere nicety, failing to do so is more significant than you think. It costs nothing to say please and thank you. But forgetting those magic words can cost you everything.

This is what we learn from today’s gospel passage. Ten men were healed. They had requested this of the Lord. They had even offered the requisite “please” out of politeness. But immediately after having received what they had asked for, it soon became apparent that the word was a mere perfunctory gesture. Their lack of gratitude, save for one, revealed their true attitude - one of entitlement rather than of humble acknowledgment of their condition. For this reason, nine went off without giving a second thought to express gratitude to the Lord.

This would be a sad ending if indeed the story ended here. But just as it is fashionable to have post-credit scenes in many recent movies, one would need to patiently wait for the next part of the story - the real ending. And it is here that we read with delight how one of those lepers returned, he “turned back praising God at the top of his voice and threw himself at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” And this made all the difference. Our Lord would declare to this individual as He commissioned him at the end of the story: “Your faith has saved you.”

Although, gratitude seems to be the major theme of this story, it is really faith which underpins the whole narrative. All ten lepers had sufficient faith in our Lord’s authority and power and therefore received healing from His hands. But only one’s faith saved him - the Samaritan leper. What distinguished him from the others? He was the only one who returned praising God, worshipped Christ and gave thanks for the healing he had received. Only his faith could recognise the source of his healing which led to worship and thanksgiving.

While I was in the United States, I once asked a colleague if everyone, including agnostics and atheists, celebrated one of their greatest civic holidays, Thanksgiving, often done so with much religious fervour, and he answered in the affirmative. My next question: “if they don’t believe in God, who are they thanking?” Seems like a valid question. How can we offer thanksgiving if we do not believe in something or someone to be thankful for? We can be thankful for our family. We can be thankful for gainful employment. We can be thankful for good health. But all of these are just mere sentiments when there is no object to offer our gratitude. That is why true gratitude must always be intertwined with faith for it is faith that provides us with the reason not only to believe but to be grateful. True faith ultimately leads to thanksgiving and gratitude must ultimately be directed to God, the source of all goodness and blessings.

No work of God's is more worthy of gratitude than salvation. Only the foreigner, the Samaritan leper, is grateful for the grace received and that is his salvation. The others think solely of the benefits received, physical healing and social acceptance; but neglected to pursue the path of well-ness right to its very end – salvation. Selective forgetfulness is to be blamed for this. Christ not only rescued us from the power and penalty of our sins, He also lifted us to the realm of grace. He delivered us from punishment and brought glory. He defeated death and won for us eternal life. He took away the threat of hell and gave us the hope of heaven. Too often, we take all these things for granted, which is to say, that we have forgotten the gain we have received. As the French would tell us, gratitude is the memory of the heart. Gratitude should make us sing of salvation, talk of salvation. Thanking God for saving us should be the unceasing occupation of our lips.

Gratitude isn't something that should pass from our minds with the passing of a season. It's an attitude, a God-centred response to circumstances that should pervade every season of our lives. Imagine a Church or a parish that follows the example of the grateful former leper. Imagine serving in a culture of gratitude—not a culture of obligation, or guilt, or arrogance, or exclusion, or pride. A person cannot be complaining and thankful at the same time, nor can they worry about money or health or anything while being thankful. With gratitude comes joy, hope, peace and love. That’s the secret of transformation. It is not found in any programme or slogan or gimmick. True transformation, whether it be in a community like a parish or a family, or personal transformation, always begins with gratitude.

The story of the ten lepers is a wonderful story of the infinite grace and mercy of our Lord and Saviour, one who gives us good gifts, even if we have ungrateful hearts. It is also a story which challenges us to place our trust in God, to follow His commands, and to see the wonderful rewards this brings us. In a few moments we will come to the table of Christ together to celebrate the Eucharist. The word ‘Eucharist’ comes from the Greek word, “eucharistia,” (εὐχαριστία) meaning to give thanks (for the good graces we have received). And so, we give thanks not just because God has healed us, He has liberated us from sin, fear and anxiety. We give thanks because the Sacrifice of the Cross re-enacted at every Eucharist has saved us and continues to make us whole – completing, bringing together and finishing the grand work of salvation which God has begun in us. And I don’t know about you, but the prospect of being made whole, being healed, being liberated and being saved is enough to make me turn around, rush back again to Jesus, and say thank you, Jesus. Thank you so very much.

Increase our Faith

Twenty Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Many Catholics confess to me (not just in confession but also in spiritual direction and casual conversations) that they feel spiritually inadequate, that their faith seems weak and shaky in their own estimation. That’s the diagnosis of their own spiritual health but many just leave it at that, without going further to seek a remedy or a solution to their condition. Being spiritually weak is just an excuse for not praying, not coming to Church, being undisciplined when it comes to spiritual exercises and also for being caught in a vice of sinful behaviour.

The apostles in today’s gospel passage are at least humble and honest enough to admit that they lack faith and now make this request of the Lord: “increase our faith!” But there is also a dark side to their request. The request itself is made out of ignorance and a lack of proper understanding of what such “faith” entails. They view “faith” as some form of energy or power that is needed for the performance of miracles and to fulfil the heavy demands of discipleship which our Lord had set out in the passages we’ve read in the preceding weeks. So, in their simplistic way of thinking, they are requesting for a booster that can power up their waning spiritual batteries. Our Lord could have simply acceded to their request by charging up their batteries but instead sets about explaining the nature of faith and the duty of a disciple.

Let us first take a look at the first reading, which is taken from the book of the prophet Habakkuk. A prophet speaks when he is needed and he is needed when the people have turned against God and forgotten His precepts. During the time of Habakkuk, everything which could go wrong did go wrong. There was much cheating, injustice, and violence in Israel. There were unrestrained oppressors and helpless victims. There were self-appointed prophets who twisted the word of God to suit their own agendas to gain wealth for themselves. The king of Israel, Jehoiakim forced people to build his own lavish residence with unpaid labour and taxed the people to pay for his military expeditions. The legal system in Judean society was corrupt, and injustice ran rampant. Finally, due to the sin of its leaders and people, Jerusalem fell to the Babylonians. This entire situation made Habakkuk question his own faith in God. He cries out to God, but God seems deaf to his cries. Even the prophet struggles in his faith. But it is now that God gives him a vision. God has not abandoned His people. God is not sleeping on the job. Justice will come; and in the meantime, the righteous, says Habakkuk, must live by endurance, perseverance and fidelity. In other words, the righteous must live by faith.

If an Old Testament prophet could struggle with his faith in the face of tribulation, what about us Christians? How about the early Christians? We don’t have to speculate as we see the same response from the apostles in today’s gospel. The teachings of Christ are no less easy to follow or less demanding. In fact, our Lord seems to raise the bar. Hence, the request: “increase our faith.”

The response of our Lord, “Were your faith the size of a mustard seed you could say to this mulberry tree, “Be uprooted and planted in the sea,” and it would obey you” is not an admonition or putting down the apostles. In Greek, it would have sounded like a Nike slogan, “If you have faith – just DO it!” The apostles already have faith enough to uproot a mulberry tree whose roots are so deep and so strong that they can break rocks beneath the earth’s surface. The real meaning of the words of the Lord is that there is no point speaking about faith as if it is an academic topic nor asking for more of it as if it was a spiritual tonic. The power of faith is fully realised by acting on it. “Just do it!” No more excuses, no more dillydallying, no more hesitation.

And so we see this thread in our readings. The prophet Habakkuk and the apostles, just like all of us, suffer the same thing, they all struggle in their faith. And in both cases, God intervenes and confirms their faith. God does not admonish them for their lack of faith. Instead, God shows that they already have faith. We don’t need a defining moment to receive some superhuman ability or a perfect scenario to act. Through our baptism, we have already received the gift of faith. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that “Faith is a gift of God, a supernatural virtue infused by him” (CCC 153). But being a gift from God, it does not preclude human free will and cooperation. “To live, grow and persevere in the faith until the end we must nourish it with the word of God; we must beg the Lord to increase our faith; it must be "working through charity," abounding in hope, and rooted in the faith of the Church” (CCC 162).

We all struggle in our faith and there is no harm or shame in admitting this. The truth is that we are not angels. Every saint struggled in their faith. Every saint has a past and every sinner a future. A mother who gives birth to a child with physical or mental defect will struggle in her faith. Every parent whose son or daughter experiences addiction will struggle in their faith. Anyone who keeps failing when battling addiction constantly will struggle in their faith. A person who suffers due to cancer or an incurable illness will struggle in their faith. A married couple in the brink of divorce or in its aftermath will struggle in their faith. When we experience immense suffering, we will definitely go through a time of struggle in our faith. Every time you witness a scandal in the church, you will struggle in your faith.

It is normal to question our faith in God. God is not offended by our doubts or struggle in faith. He is willing to reassure us, and to stand by us, and to strengthen us. Isaiah reassures us that the Lord will “strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees" (Isa 35:3) We should know that when we struggle in our faith, it means that our Lord is providing us with the opportunity to stretch and grow in our faith. Most people are not aware that when they request the Lord to increase their faith, He will do so not by pumping us with spiritual adrenaline but provide us the training ground for us to build and form stronger spiritual muscles. When we ask Him to increase our faith, we are literally asking Him to send us trials and tribulations. So, beware when you ask for more faith. Your prayers will certainly be answered but not in the way you expect it. Struggling in faith like Habakkuk or the Apostles shows that we are on the right path. It is a sign of growing pangs, of a faith which is alive and continues to burst out of its baby clothes. God will uphold your faith.

Value of Discomfort

Twenty Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Most of us are allergic to discomfort and are naturally attracted to comfort. I can honestly admit: “me too!” I look for the most comfortable chair in the room. If I had a chance, I would be doing most of my reading, writing, listening to music or watching television or even praying, lying down on a comfy sofa, a divan or even my own bed. My argument is that discomfort can be such a distraction and takes away our attention from things which require our focus. Of course, comfort can also lull you to sleep which ultimately cancels out all other intended activities.

The truth of the matter is that we have made a god of comfort. Look at the advertisements that appear on television or your social media feed. They cater to our desire for ease. Don’t misunderstand my point. I also love being comfortable, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with seeking those things that make life easier and more comfortable. But I’m bothered with the obsession I see of avoiding anything that might make us uncomfortable. This may be the reason why many people avoid church. The pews are uncomfortable. The heat and the cold are uncomfortable. The music is uncomfortable. The readings and prayers are uncomfortable. Decent Sunday Best clothing is generally uncomfortable. The priest’s homily is uncomfortably long and pointless. Everything about Church shouts “discomfort!”

But the readings we have heard today is that God’s desire is not to give you a life of comfort; He desires to be your comfort. In the first reading, the prophet Amos warns the people of Judah and Israel against feeling so comfortable that they have insulated themselves from the suffering and poverty of those around them and for this reason they have also insulated themselves from God’s Word. In the second reading, St Paul reminds the young bishop Timothy of the need to strive in making progress in Christian virtue and sanctity, “to fight the good fight.” Christianity is not about lazing around like spiritual couch potatoes waiting for the next blessing to drop on our laps without any effort on our part. Faith can’t be manipulated via remote control.

St Paul writes: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction” (2 Cor. 1:3-4). It is clear that God does not promise to remove our afflictions. Many times, He mercifully does, but there’s no guarantee. What is promised is that “He comforts us in all our affliction.” That is the greater gift: God Himself walking with us! God wants us to find our joy in Him, not in a life of ease and comfort. This life is short and transitory, and those things we crave and rely on for our comfort are equally transitory. They will not last—but God’s presence will. As my favourite saint, Teresa of Avila, often reminds me, “all things passes, only God remains!” There will come a day in His eternal kingdom when we will be free from all affliction. There will be unending joy and comfort with Christ in His kingdom, but for now He wants us to learn that it is Him—His loving, comforting presence—that we truly need.

This is what the famous parable of Lazarus and the rich man seeks to illustrate. Many people often provide this parable with a moral interpretation - that is, that we should be concerned with the welfare of our brethren unlike the rich man who was indifferent to the needs of Lazarus, the beggar. Others have also used this parable as a lesson on poverty and riches. Poverty in this life will be rewarded with riches and treasures in the next, while wealth in this life would be a foolish investment because it yields nothing in the next when it is not shared with others.

Though these may be valid points, I would like to lead our reflexion into a different rabbit hole. I view this parable as an invitation to see value in the uncomfortable, in suffering, in what is lacking. There is no greater contrast made than that of the rich man and poor Lazarus. The first lived a life of great comfort, described in detail in the story, while the latter suffered abject poverty. Yet after death, their fortunes were reversed. The rich man would now suffer the ultimate discomfort of being separated from his loved ones and from God while Lazarus would be comforted in the bosom of Abraham. Notice that the rich man only came to be aware of his brothers’ spiritual welfare when he was dead, when he is now experiencing the greatest discomfort. He had little thought for his brothers when he was alive because his comfortable lifestyle had made him immune to feeling any empathy for others.

What can we learn from this story and Amos’ warning in the first reading? While God offers ultimate spiritual comfort, He often uses uncomfortable situations to promote spiritual growth and deeper reliance on Him rather than on worldly comforts. Our Lord Jesus Himself promised His followers that, in this world, they would face hardship (John 16:33), yet this discomfort can lead to true peace, growth, and a greater understanding of God's power and faithfulness.

So, why does God allow us to experience the uncomfortable?

Firstly, God wishes to dislodge our dependence on worldly comforts, what spiritual writers call “inordinate affections” - loving the creature for its own sake and not because it leads us to love the Creator. God often uses discomfort to break our reliance on easy, predictable comforts, which can be false idols or sources of sin.

Secondly, as God helps us to be detached from temporal earthly pleasures, He is leading us to true lasting comfort. By moving you out of your comfort zone, God helps you seek and find His comfort, which is rooted in His presence and promises, rather than a life free from difficulty.

Thirdly, uncomfortable situations help us stretch and move beyond our comfort zones and help promote growth and trust in God in all situations. People tend to trust less in God when they are feeling comfortable. But they can discover the strength which comes from grace in moments of weakness and vulnerability. God uses uncomfortable situations, like a crucible and furnace, to refine us and align us for His purpose. So, what do we do if we find ourselves in an uncomfortable situation? Rather than demanding an end to the discomfort, let us seek God’s presence in it. Our own discomfort should lead us to greater solidarity with others who may be suffering greater discomfort than us. Comfort blinds our senses just as it did with the rich man in the parable, who was oblivious to the needs and suffering of Lazarus who sat at his gates. Discomfort opens them. Remember that God does not waste suffering; even your discomfort is part of His plan to bring you to a greater good.

Finally, we must be willing to step outside the path of least resistance, and into situations that call you to greater faith and action, for that is what discipleship is all about. As the Son of God bridged the impassable “gulf” between heaven and earth to come to us sinners in our aid, let us bridge the “gulf” that remains between us and others and not wait till it is no longer passable.